


Lions Before Dawn

by Omnibard



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Despair Event Horizon Reached, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Royal Edition trailer, Lost Will to Live, Short One Shot, World of Ruin, sunrise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: This is a terrible, terrible one-shot based on two terrible things:a) The background story of my Comrades character is horrifically depressing and angsty-- with the exception of Lunafreya.b) After watching the trailer for Royal Edition, I am 300% convinced that (spoilers!) Cor dies.Be prepared for depressing angst...(Mild character reveal spoilers for 'Cathedrals of You'-- see notes at end)





	Lions Before Dawn

Ariel watched Noctis, heard his words, and thought he made a fine king.  Not that she was the resident expert on kings, having never been sworn to one, but his retinue-- her friends-- beamed with pride, as did the last gathered Kingsglaive-- for they were  _ all _ Kingsglaive now, regardless of magic or oaths.

They were the last gathered blades of the king.

Cor too, resolute and unflinching as ever, seemed to swell with pride for his king.  She wondered if he was remembering the Lucian Prince from before, like she was.  She wondered if it hurt him as much as it hurt her.

There was no doubt he felt as surely and completely as she did, their time together these past ten years had been  _ very instructive _ on that front, but now he was looking toward the dawn with hope and the battle with anticipation.  They  _ all were. _

Ariel met Noctis’s eyes, and she wondered if he looked forward to it for the reason they did.

Or for the reason  _ she _ did?  She wondered if he still bled as freshly.

 

The Royal Retinue started to exit, and Cor was giving instructions, splitting the Glaive into teams to secure a route into Insomnia straight to the Citadel.  His arrangement kept her with him, she noted, and wondered if he knew-- if he remembered that night years ago where he’d held her against his broad chest, trying to pull her away from the darkness and agony festering in her soul with all the legendary strength he possessed while she howled her wounds into his shoulder in a language of suffering beyond words.  She remembered always hearing a whisper of fear in his thoughts after that.  Her pain  _ frightened _ him because he knew the ruin it brought, personally.  It was one of the many things they shared.

The Glaive was dispersing to prepare, and the Commander slowed to a stop next to her before exiting.

“Soon,” She said softly, looking him in the eye.

Sighing, he gave a minute nod, “Soon.”

\---  


Ariel was moving, but Cor was still so much faster-- _ so fast _ for a man over fifty-- and already he’d placed himself to shield Noctis from the maelstrom of Cerberus’s flame with nothing more than the meager flesh of his body.

Fury suffused her.  She knew his mind, of course.  This was nothing more than his duty-- perhaps the fulfillment of his duty realized at  _ last _ after so many perceived failures.  For Cor Leonis, there would be no greater glory than to sacrifice his life for his king’s.  Weeks ago, this alone would have sent her into unspeakable rage, but the dawn was soon at hand, and she had no more footing for an argument.  No, if dying for Noctis would ease the burden of guilt and shame he’d insisted on carrying for forty years, she was prepared to let him do it.

But not if he was going to  _ throw his life away _ so  _ stupidly. _

Dropping her lance, both hands stretched out,  _ pushing _ at the flames with her will,  _ leaning _ with the weight of her feelings, dredging them up from the well within, Ariel drove back the fire.  She’d never mastered magic-- not like the Glaives or the Retinue-- but magic created physical effects in the world with  _ energy _ , and she could shape  _ energy _ with her mind.  Magic fire had very little separating it from natural fire.  Still, it was a great  _ deal _ of fire at once and under pressure.  It hit her with resistance like a speeding truck, then seemed to  _ drag her _ under it’s force.  Still, she did not let it go, pushing and twisting it back, pulling energy away from it and transforming it through the air to boost the barrier spell of a Glaive who charged Cerberus’s flank, roaring her challenge.

Incredible pain already arced head to foot, and so Ariel did not even  _ feel _ when the lesser daemon carved from hip to calf, all but completely hamstringing her.  Ahead of her, Gladiolus grabbed Noctis and Cor, dragging them out of the way of the fire blast that wobbled and heaved in the air, folding back on itself, losing strength.

Ariel let it go when they were clear.  It dissipated into a very warm breeze by the time it reached where she stood.

The King and his Commander had recovered quickly and resumed their efforts into the fray.  Ariel sought the flame-and-shadow painted floor for her lance-- the Armiger had never answered her-- but found it nowhere.

“Ignis?”

“Here!” One of his daggers vanished to be replaced with one of his lances, which he threw in the direction of her voice.  She caught it handedly, willing seizing, screaming muscles to obey.

_ Soon… _

\---  


Cerberus had cost them much in terms of time and strength.  Everyone suffered some wound or another, and potions remained scarce.  Ariel had pulled enough energy from the ether to partially heal her leg, and more to work more completely on Cor’s ribs-- but he’d stopped her and waved her off to heal others.

He wished his King well, sending him ahead, speaking aloud his hope of seeing him again when the sun rose and the darkness abated at last.

At last.

He was watching them leave when he called over, “Ariel--”

“--Save it.”

“Go with the king.” The Commander’s eyebrows crashed together and his mouth slashed into his firmest scowl.

Her chin rose in quiet defiance, “No.”

“ _ Ariel-- _ ”

She shook her head, ignoring the command in his voice,“I’m not here for  _ him _ , Cor.  He doesn’t need me.  He  _ never _ needed me.   _ You _ maybe, but I can’t go stand in  _ your _ place.  I won’t tell you to stand there yourself, though.”

Noctis had never needed her.  He’d disdained the memories of their childhood, the silly court rumors that it might prove wiser if he were betrothed to the ‘princess of Accordo’.  Beyond them, he hardly thought of her at all.

No.  His destiny was his alone, and he’d reach his reward before her.  She didn’t resent him the privilege-- he’d  _ earned it _ after all.

 

“Hate me if it suits you better,” She looked the older man in his beloved face, “but I am staying here with you.  Until the dawn.”

A shiver passed through him while a shadow crossed his blue eyes, and Ariel knew he realized her mind at last.  Swallowing his feelings, they caught in his throat and broke his voice into rough pieces, “Don’t.  Ariel…”

“No, Cor.  Dawn is the goal.  Beyond that… I can’t anymore,” She shook her head again, “I told you.  There is no light left for me.”

Even as the fresh horde of daemons rushed through the subways, drawing nearer to their position, the Immortal Marshal took the moment to cup her face in a calloused hand, and try  _ once again _ to heal her heart with the strength of his feeling for her, “You’ve been  _ my _ light.  The sun will find you.  It has to.”

 

Astrals, she loved him.  She loved him more than the promise of the sunrise, more than vengeance on everything the darkness had taken.  There’d been no sanctuary like that found in his arms, against the fortress of his heart, and with his mouth and hands and within her, he could take her from the world of darkness for just a blissful moment of respite.  He worked hard for those moments, to bring them to her.  Bless him, he deserved better than she could give.  So she simply gave him the best she had--the truth: she wasn’t  _ like _ him.  Not at her foundation.  At his root, Cor could endure until the end of time if he had to, as if his mind and spirit were forged from the very bones of Eos itself.  She could not admit to a similar fount of strength.

The darkness had taken the foundation of her inner fortitude.  Lunafreya had extended her hand, what seemed a lifetime ago, to deliver her from hopeless darkness and unending loneliness, and in return, Ariel had given herself utterly to the Oracle.  All her hopes and dreams-- every promise of happiness in the world had rested on Lunafreya.

But then Altissia… and Ariel had foolishly let her  _ die _ .

Cor had lost Mors, and then Regis… and if the prophecy held true, he would lose  _ Noctis _ as well.  But his  _ duty _ remained unchanged, and so he endured.   _ That _ was what made him ‘The Immortal’ to Ariel, and so,  _ so _ worthy of renown and respect.

Ariel had given herself to Lunafreya, and Lunafreya had given herself to stem the darkness.  Ariel had dedicated the  _ rest  _ of her life to combat it, despite never picking up a weapon before.  Now the dawn was coming, and her fight would be over.  There would be nothing else after.

Cor had tried.  For the better part of ten years he had  _ tried _ to build her a new foundation, and she had loved him desperately for it.  But she was not enough.  Not  _ him _ ;  _ he _ was supremely sufficient, a better reason than  _ any _ could ask for to keep living, but there was too much damage within her and she would not suffer to watch him try and  _ carry her _ dead-weight through the rest of their lives together when she ran out of strength.

 

She knew it was despairingly selfish, but then, none could claim to know the hopelessness Lunafreya had taken her from.  She’d tried to explain it to him, that night, but the old memories were still too painful, and words failed, and the sense of all that she’d lost overcame her, and she’d howled her suffering into his strong shoulder, and he’d come away  _ frightened _ of what was inside her.

No.  She would not do him the disservice of trying--and failing-- to live for him, or any  _ lesser _ reason.

 

Stepping into him, she pressed a kiss against his mouth, and he met her there, knowing her answer.  Similarly, he knew that words would not suffice, and knew that with the dawn, perhaps only an hour away, and the hellish hordes descending upon them with each breath-- and their duty to stop them  _ here _ \-- that he had run out of time to find other ways to try and convince her she already had the strength inside to live for  _ herself. _

He told himself this was not a kiss  _ goodbye _ .

 

\---  


She could never confess to being his equal, but then, she never needed to be.  Her unique talents meshed well with his-- her power literally added to his as needed.  With her at his back, the legendary Immortal Marshal of the Crownsguard--now the unstoppable Commander of the Kingsglaive--never need worry about wounds or exhaustion.  He could fight until the dawn, and no daemon could challenge him  _ long _ in combat.

But the enemies were many--near  _ endless _ , and their wounds multiplied faster than Ariel could keep well-healed, and her strength flagged under the demand.  A respite came at last, however, thanks in no small part to Cor’s tactical genius in having a team of Glaives collapse the tunnels.  But the damage had been done, and with his entire body heaving with the effort of breathing, the Commander staggered to the wall to lean his shoulder there in a desperate attempt to remain on his feet.

Ariel joined him there, and reached for the reserves of power within herself to restore him once more-- but then blood spurted from her nose as something flinched inside her skull, and with a sickening, slimy dizziness, Ariel knew she had nothing left to give in that respect.

“Take it easy.” Cor managed to say between gulps of air.  She started to open her mouth to make a smart reply-- the kind that would coax the ghost of a smile to his eyes if not his lips-- but then his knees buckled and he slid down the wall.

To her credit, she  _ tried _ to catch him and stop his fall, but there was no strength left to either of them.  The subway tunnels of Insomnia had sucked the very last they had to offer.  Together they crumpled into some semblance of a sitting position.  His color was bad-- she searched, slapping away his hands, and found the hole through his back to his belly that he’d been hiding and fighting through somehow-- and her leg wound had opened up again in the chaos, half-severed through the tendon.

“Ariel.  You can make it.   _ Live _ .”

She shook her head, tears threatening to choke her, “No.  I can’t.  But I’ll cut you a deal, old man…” tracing his jawline, the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips with a finger, she said, “I’ll let you go first, so you don’t have to be the last man standing  _ one more time _ .”

They both knew he was dying, right here, in her arms.  With her power shattered inside her mind, buckled under the strain, there was no way to save him.

_ The Immortal _ was dying.

“Ariel--”

“--Cor.” She covered his mouth with her hand, eyes brimming with pain as well as anger, “It’s enough.  You’ve done more than enough.  Don’t spend the last of yourself fighting  _ me _ .”

He was dying in her arms, and she couldn’t save him.

Cor quieted, and she dropped her hand, and he held it for a moment, before beginning the struggle to his feet.

“What are you--”

“--Giving up a  _ lot _ for this dawn,” He growled, sweat beading fresh on his brow for the cost of his efforts, “So at least I’m going to  _ see it. _ ”

“All right,” She laughed humorlessly, “I’ll go with you.”

\---  


They’d more than half-carried each other to the streets-- now eerily still and quiet, as if the entire city were holding its breath.  They’d found a shattered section of road broken at an odd angle to climb painstakingly, but it gave just enough view so that they’d not miss the first gloaming of daylight.

If they lasted that long.

Neither of them had much in the way of strength left, having literally bled most of it away despite their rudimentary, patch-work bandaging efforts.  Cor half-lay in her lap, and Ariel was propped against a piece of rubble to her right.  She held his hand, feeling its heat and strength fade by degrees, and both of them pretended that intense pain was not their companion.

“... This is kind of... nice…” He confessed at length, his voice little more than thick whisper.

She chuckled, carding her fingers through his short hair, “Are you kidding?  I think this is the most romantic date you’ve ever taken me on.”

He laughed, a coughing gasp of a laugh, but a laugh, and it was precious to her, “... Well… I never promised romance…”

“That’s true.” His entire body was tense with pain-- determined to die in quiet dignity as he was, despite the agony of his belly wound--but he leaned his head back comfortably against her, so she continued to run her fingers against his scalp, “And I tried to convince you to not bother… to not get attached.  Do… you regret it?”

It seemed to Ariel that she had fallen for the Marshal almost on sight, the day he’d strode purposefully back into Lestallum from the wilds ten years ago.  But her mind had been made up then, about what the future would hold, and so she did not entertain any hopes.  The warm, nervous feelings of excitement every time she saw him or heard him mentioned were a welcome distraction in the long, harrowing night-- but that was all.  However, her friends-- she remained convinced that Galahdians were the most infuriatingly nosy and rabble-rousing folk on the face of Eos-- had engineered occasion after occasion for her to be in his presence, to speak to him, to train with him, to hunt with him.  Cor had become  _ accustomed _ to her presence, and then attached.

“No.  Many things.  Not that.  Not this.” He squeezed her hand.  He’d told her before, in quiet, simple terms, that her optimism and seemingly full-bodied joy had drawn him first-- ‘light in the dark’ were his words.  Her determination and selflessness-- always helping, always encouraging, never seeming to weary or lose patience-- and impossible  _ warmth _ of heart for every single person she’d met had been undeniably precious.  They’d drawn him, because he was human, and he’d needed to sip from her strength and warmth from time to time like everyone else.  He’d fallen for her, however, the night he saw her sitting alone at a haven, bathed in the cool light of the runes, quiet and introspective.  ‘ _ You shouldn’t be out here alone,’ _ he’d told her, bracing himself to hear that another team had succumbed to the daemons.  But she’d smiled that radiant smile of hers at him and replied,  _ ‘Good thing you came, then, Marshal!’ _

_ Nothing _ seemed to defeat her-- not fear, not loss, not hardship, not pain.  Then he’d learned later, that she’d already  _ been  _ defeated years ago, broken cruelly against the harsh wheel of fate in a way he could not truly understand, and had simply been slowly bleeding her last to everyone around her.

Like Lunafreya, whom she loved so much.  Cor had been wise to never make the comparison aloud-- it would be the cruelest wound to her tattered spirit.

She’d warned him not to love her, but she was worthy of love-- starved for it as much as he was-- and so he’d loved her regardless of her warnings, and not been surprised about the passion with which she  _ loved him back _ in spite of herself.

“I wanted… to save you,” He said quietly, knowing the naive foolishness of it-- he’d tried for ten years to mend what the gods had broken, and in Ariel’s infinite generosity, she’d never chastised him his arrogance for it.

“... I know,” She moved slightly, to reach down and kiss his temple, “You did.”

“Hm?”

“I mean… without you, I’d be here alone, cursing myself… rending what little of my self-worth is left into tiny pieces to scatter in the wind like ash, drowning in the guilt that… I’m getting off  _ too easy _ ,” Her thumb worked small, gentle circles over his knuckles, “But now… I’m not.  I’m here with the man I love… willing the sunrise to be the most beautiful thing in the gods-damned world, so I can see what his face looks like in it.”

“Probably like hell.”

“I’ve seen hell.  I know for a fact you look nothing like it.”

“Flattery,” He mused wryly, “gets you nowhere tonight.”

“All my well-laid plans to seduce you in the sunrise…” She sighed wistfully, pain hitching it only slightly, and smiled against the crown of his head.

“Warned you… about romance.”

“Silly me.”

 

Black gave way to pale gray-blue on the horizon, and Ariel felt Cor’s sharp inhale.  By slow degrees the pale color spread across the sky, chased by pink, and then bright orange, but all the colors blurred together as tears welled and spilled over.

Somewhere in the city, a Glaive gave a whoop of victory.  It was followed by more cheers, and the sound choked a quiet sob out of her.

The Immortal was waiting, holding on by sheer force of will alone-- he’d gone dead-weight and cool in her arms.

“It’s alright, Cor,” She whispered, “... You can go.”

He hesitated, unconvinced, unwilling to leave her-- unwilling at the last, to place on her the burden of  _ being the last one standing _ , which he had carried since he was fifteen years old.

“Go to your king, Marshal.” She said more firmly, “You promised him you’d see him after sunrise.”

He hadn’t promised it, of course, but that didn’t matter in the moment.

“Go on.  I’ll see you soon.”

The sun was halfway up the eastern horizon, a gleaming half-circle between ruined towers, when Cor Leonis slipped away quietly to the side of his kings.

Ariel held him still, carding fingers through his hair, eyes fixed on the sunrise, and for a long, excruciating moment, she feared that the cruelty of fate would show itself not completely spent… and that she would somehow  _ live _ .   _ Survive _ this night, somehow, in a world without Lunafreya or Cor, surrounded by sunlight that everyone could see and bask in but her.   _ Again. _

_ ‘I’ve seen hell _ .’

 

Prompto found them first, hours later, two dark silhouettes crouched against the brilliant blue of the daytime sky.  Eagerly, he’d clambered up there, hoping to find and celebrate and mourn with friends.

“Ariel!” Then he reached them, “... Oh… Oh no.”

“What is it?” Ignis asked, while Gladio clambered up to see for himself.

“... The Marshal.  He…” Prompto couldn’t bring himself to say it.  It went against the truths of the world as he knew them, and to say aloud that the legendary  _ Immortal _ was a cold corpse in the face of their victory was not something he could do just now.  In time, maybe, he could say it, but not at this moment.

“Ariel?” Gladiolus put his large hand on her hunched shoulder where she cradled Cor, holding his hand, other hand loose against his unbreathing chest, “Hey…”

There was no warmth beneath his hand, and she did not stir.

“... Dammit.” Prompto said softly.

“... They went together,” Ignis said after a moment, clearing his throat, “To the king.”

Prompto nodded, biting his lip, “... And Luna.”

“Yeah.” Gladio stood, withdrawing his hand, “... Good for them.”

“It falls to us, then, gentlemen.” Ignis said, “To carry on.”

“Right.”

“Lots to do.”

The day waited.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read any of my other stuff, you'll recognize Ariel's name and some of her abilities. I've rewritten Ariel's story in the FFXV universe many, many times in my head. Consider this story a terrible AU that just-so-happens to coincide more loyally with the canon story-line.
> 
> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


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